Page 18 of The Devil's Son


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“You stand over six feet tall,” Lucan interjected.

Sebastian barely acknowledged the comment. “I’m nothing like my great-grandfather. I’m not even anything like my father. I’m weak. That’s why they came now. I came of age, and they, whoever they were, came to take the kingdom from me.”

Sebastian was right in some respects. Athelred had been regarded as a terror of the highest order, but Sebastian was only a pup. He did not know what he was capable of yet. He was filthy, broken, and terrified, but the blood of kings ran in his veins. Lucan saw it beneath the terror, though Sebastian might not yet recognize it himself.

It was true that the Kingdom of Force had lost much of its reputation for brutality over the generations. Sebastian’s mother in particular had ushered in a new era of refinement. Perhaps that had broadcast a signal of weakness. Lucan had not heard whispers of insurrection among the ranks, but clearly poison had been spreading through more than the kitchen.

There had not been time for anything resembling a full investigation in their flight from the castle, but Lucan knew well enough by the evidence of his eyes alone that nearly every single red-tabard-wearing soldier was one who had previously sworn to serve the house of Force. Treacherous bastards.

“Where are we?”

Sebastian’s question drew Lucan’s attention.

“This is a hunt cottage, set aside for hunters who travel for many days in search of their quarry.”

“I never hunted,” Sebastian said.

Lucan was well aware of that fact. Sebastian had been denied every avenue that might make him more adept in the arts of combat and war. It was said that he was a peaceful soul, more inclined to books and drama. In a better, more educated court, he would have become a great scholar.

So much potential lay untapped in this prince. Power crackled from him, so very latent and so very unrecognized. Lucan saw it. Had seen it for some time. He had become a knight of the court at twenty-one years old, when Sebastian was merely thirteen years old. He had only seen the prince at special occasions, but Sebastian had always had a quiet, regal intensity that seemed to be overlooked by others who were more impressed with the elegance of his mother and masculinity of his father.

Lucan had hunted with Sebastian’s father many times, and found the king to be gregarious, powerful, and a great lover of men in every sense. The fact the queen had only produced one child was not a surprise to him, nor to any knight who had accompanied the king on his great stag hunts. It was quite likely that Thadecus had only lain with Melinda Force once.

Five years earlier…

Early morning air was brisk and cold against his nose and every other extremity, but Lucan was thrilled to be standing outside on a frosty morning in spite of the fact he could not feel his toes.

He had earned a position on the royal hunt, but it still felt like luck to be here with the king of Force himself. Having come from the most humble of beginnings and having known what it was to have absolutely nothing at all, for a man like Lucan to not only be one of the king’s guard, but to attend the king’s private hunt was an honor greater than he could ever have imagined.

Thadecus Force stood in the middle of his assembled knights, a tall, broad shouldered, golden haired Adonis. He was inordinately handsome, just as blessed as his esteemed wife in all things aesthetic. He had a heavy brow and bright blue eyes, a golden beard trimmed short to his chin because unlike many who grew beards, Thadecus Force had no need to hide weak bone structure. There was nothing weak about him whatsoever.

They called Thadecus the golden king. A minor prince of the house of Pax, he had been married to Queen Melinda of Force for fourteen years. He was thirty-five years of age, and a legendary hunter, and this was Lucan’s first time on the royal hunt, a month long expedition to the very edges of the Kingdom of Force.

Lucan felt an inexorable attraction to the king’s charisma. Everybody did. Of all the regents of the Continental Kingdoms, he was regarded as the most handsome, the most charismatic, and the most fun at parties.

In addition to these fine qualities, he was also not at all interested in declaring war. Being a prince of Pax, he posed no danger to the richest kingdom. And being rather interested in his own amusements to the detriment of the sort of activities kings were traditionally known for, he had never so much as thought of declaring war on the Verdant Green, the kingdom to the East where much of the vegetables and such of the Continental Kingdoms was grown.

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